


Further Sexual Tension

by Fodforever



Series: What If's for 1796 Broadway... (go read it!) [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Feels, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:03:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fodforever/pseuds/Fodforever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newest in this series inspired by 1796 Broadway! Takes place directly after Chapter 153: Resolvable Sexual Tension. Tony and Steve have talked some things out, and made out, and now Tony is showing Steve his bed…</p><p>You probably need to read that to understand this, and honestly, why aren't you already?!</p><p>Note: Rating changed to M for 2nd and 3rd chapter. If you're not into that, chapter one stands on its own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [1796 Broadway](https://archiveofourown.org/works/972937) by [rainproof](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainproof/pseuds/rainproof), [teaberryblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaberryblue/pseuds/teaberryblue). 



By the time Steve puts his head in Tony’s lap, Tony knows he can’t keep things platonic.

Jesus, could Steve be any more confusing? He says they need to keep things non-sexual, and then puts his head on Tony’s crotch...

Not that he was complaining; it’s more than he ever thought he’d have, but like anything else he wants, once he's had a taste it suddenly isn't enough.

And he really, really doesn’t know what to do now, because they are making their way to his bedroom (‘I want some time to think… show me your bed’). Seriously, what the fuck even is he supposed to do here?

So far their talk has gone about as well as it could have. He didn’t realize that Steve was so hurt by his silence in Japan… or that Becky was essentially Steve’s own version of trying to escape feelings he thought weren’t reciprocated. When he thinks about it like that he almost feels sorry for Becky… almost.

And the whole "difficult to be around" thing… being compared to a mangy cat doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, but somehow Steve made it sound okay.

Tony wishes Steve could just be direct. It’s so strange to see the same man that can make split second life and death calls in the field hem and haw over how to say “I like you.” Tony’s brain doesn’t seem to process his elaborate roundabout language. It’s doesn’t compute, and he hates that even now playing it back for himself he isn’t totally sure what Steve means.

_“So when I was a kid, there was this cat. An alley cat, right? A big, grey tom. And I loved that cat. My mother wouldn’t let me, you know, bring it into the house or anything, and she’d scold me for going too close, because, well...you know. Asthma and cats don’t really mix. But I couldn’t keep away from it; I just liked watching it, watching it figure out how to get into the trash cans, or leap onto ledges, or...whatever it was doing._

_And one day, I got too close, I guess, I decided to try to pet it-- I was really young, five, or six-- and it scratched me. Really scratched me. I had this horrible red, welty thing down my arm._

_I ran into the apartment, crying and howling my lungs out, and of course I started wheezing, and my mother...well, she was her usual calm, decent self about it, but she pointed out that she’d warned me, and she knew the cat was hard to stay away from, but it was for my own good, and here...and she gave me a pencil and paper and told me to draw the cat instead._

_And, you know, the next day I went out and tried to pet the cat again. It’s like that._

_I was five. The cat was so damn beautiful I couldn’t keep away from it."_

Does Steve really think he’s that out of control, like some sort of rabid animal? It’s… he knows he messed up with Japan. He knew when he was doing it he was messing up, that was the point. He wanted to just take some time away and just forget for a while; come to find out Steve was tracking his every move anyway… stupid instant internet. Stupid accommodating Japanese.

Tony winces to himself as he opens his bedroom door, because he knows that really it’s

Stupid Tony.

But if he’d known. If he’d known that he had even a one-in-one-billion chance with Steve he would never have done any of it. He knows he can be better.

 

 

 

 

He can keep things semi-platonic. He can’t screw this up; the last thing he wants to do is push Steve and make him feel like he can’t trust Tony to respect what he wants. Honestly, he’s a little floored that Steve let them make out on the sofa. And now they are both in his bedroom and they’re going to share his bed and he’s what? Expected to keep his hands to himself?

If he can pull this off he should qualify for superhuman status right alongside Captain fucking America.

 

* * *

 

Steve has no idea what he’s doing.

He can’t believe he asked to see the bed; no wonder Tony keeps pushing… he’s practically paving the way for him. And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? He kind of wants Tony to push. Well, no he really wants him to. And he doesn’t. He still doesn’t know what he wants and they are going into Tony’s bedroom.

He can’t stop thinking about being pushed up against a wall.

He’s half hoping that as soon as the door closes, that’s exactly what Tony will do, but then they will _really_ be breaking all the rules he set out for tonight and he’s already broken so many. Tony’s so good at that, making him break rules that would otherwise be as strong as steel.

Tony leads the way inside and turns, making a flourishing movement with his arms illustrating the bed in all its glory, and starts rambling on about the details of the construction and how they used this rare material and that. It really is something. It’s huge, and looks so comfortable Steve actually forgets to feel conflicted for a moment because he’s so excited to lay down and see how it feels.

“So... that's the bed.” finishes Tony, clearing his throat a bit.

It’s painfully adorable to see Tony all awkward like this. Tony is never awkward. Rushed. Rude. Pushy. Sarcastic. These are his usual go-tos when he’s feeling a bit out of his element. He knows Tony is just nervous about saying or doing the wrong thing and pushing him away (he just told him, in between kisses…), so he decides to take the lead.

Steve slips off his slacks and folds them over a nearby chair, leaving him in just his boxers and t-shirt before pulling back the covers and getting in. He slides over to the side without the Stark pad (which he assumes is the side Tony prefers), and leaves the duvet pulled back, resting his head up on his hand, arm bent at the elbow. After a beat he pats the empty space next to him indicating for Tony to join him.

Tony rolls his eyes and mumbles what Steve’s hearing just makes out as “mixed messages!” before removing his own pants and watch, and taking his phone out of the pocket placing it beside the Stark pad and getting in.

Tony scoots up close to Steve, but stops a few inches away, resting his head on the pillow. His eyes are warm as he slowly, achingly slides the last few inches and places a kiss on the underside of Steve’s jaw.

“I don’t mean to send mixed messages…” Steve sighs, leaning down to brush a kiss of his own onto Tony’s forehead.

“Mmm-” is all Tony manages to respond as Steve moves down, placing gentle kisses along his nose, then his eye-brows and finally on his ‘thing’ under his mouth. Steve continues to kiss Tony, bracing himself over him on one arm, resting the other on Tony’s torso, playing with the edge of the collar of his undershirt.

For all of Steve’s hopes/fears that Tony will try to move things along once in bed, Tony is totally pliant, letting Steve set the pace. Steve kisses him deeper, settling a little heavier on top of him, but careful to keep their lower halves out of alignment. Tony continues to respond beautifully, pressing up from underneath him, running his hands over Steve’s arms and back. Finally Steve pulls back, running his hand up from Tony’s chest to his jawline tracing his facial hair.

Tony leans into his touch, and Steve almost expects him to purr. And he thinks again about that old grey cat, and wonders if it was the right thing to say.

It got them here though, so it seems pretty right.

“You’re being very compliant with the rules all of a sudden” he teases; still not sure if he’s actually glad.

Tony smiles, leaning up to bump his nose against Steve’s. “I can follow rules, when I have the motivation.”

Steve pulls back, running a hand through Tony’s hair and firmly grasping a handful of it to angle his head to be sure Tony is looking him right in the eye. Then he sets a serious look on his face and says in his best Captain America voice:

“Great work Stark, glad to see you can be a team player.”

Tony’s eye glaze over and he lets out a strangled, surprised moan, arching up, pressing his upper body into Steve and his lower body into the empty covers above him.

“Fucking, fuck! Damn it Steve!” Steve glances over to see what is clearly Tony’s erection straining against the heavy covers. He can’t help but laugh, even though he isn’t really in any better shape, grinding down a little into the somehow soft yet firm million dollar mattress.

Steve laughs even harder at Tony’s scandalized expression, and soon they're both laughing, and it’s like that day at the pond… but with erections. They laugh until they ache, until finally they’ve both calmed down enough for Tony to blurt out:

“Fuck, I love everything about you.”

All the heat and pleasure that was centered against the mattress shifts and Steve feels it radiating out of his entire body, like he’s on fire. In an instant he’s kissing Tony for all he’s worth, because you can’t just hear something like that and not.... He moves to align their bodies, to finally get some friction, but Tony’s hands come up to still his hips before they press down.

Tony’s gasping, and flushed, and he is the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen. He licks his lips and tilts his head to the side before saying “Steve – I didn’t… I didn’t say that so we would—“ he looks down at where their bodies are inches from connecting and sighs pressing against Steve with his hands to get Steve’s body off of him. “Fuck. We’re taking it slow, right?”

Steve holds in a groan and settles back down onto the mattress. Tony’s right. He nods and huffs a breath, settling down again into his pillow. His arm is still thrown around Tony, but his mind is too busy to do much else.

_I love everything about you_

Steve wants to tell Tony he feels the same way. He wants to tell him… something, but he stops himself. Does he love everything about Tony? He can’t seem to make the words come out. Tony can be impossible, and this whole thing still seems like a terrible idea half the time…

He looks at Tony’s profile. His eyes are closed, and he appears to be doing the calming deep breathing exercises Bruce taught them a couple months ago. Tony, who is renowned for his sexual exploits, his sex tapes, his recklessness, his rule-breaking and everything else. Who just pushed him away because Steve asked to take things slow. Sticking to the arbitrary rule Steve set, after watching Steve break his own rules time and time again.

Steve sighs and leans in to rub his forehead against the side of Tony's. He doesn’t love _everything_ about Tony. But, there are so many things that he does... Tony isn’t that grey tom cat. Not really. In a lot of ways he is like some wild force, poised to hurt Steve, the team, himself. Because Tony _is_ wild and beautiful and so amazing in so many ways that Steve doesn’t even fully understand… he’s wild but that’s not _all_ he is.

He’s trying, and if he can try, so can Steve.

Steve wants to try.

 

Besides, if he gets a few scratches, he heals pretty fast these days.


	2. He Likes the Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony deal with the aftermath of sharing Tony's bed. This is p0rn, but all they actually do is touch foreheads... Tony's POV with Steve's to follow in the next chapter.

Tony is doing everything he can not to roll over and ravage Steve. Like, literally everything.

He’s even doing those damn meditative breathing exercises that Bruce tried to get him to do every day for a week. Thank god Bruce is doing yoga or whatever with Natasha now, for a while there Tony thought he’d have to actually go through with daily meditation just to keep his lab partner.

 

Okay, so the exercises kind of work. Tony’s heart is no longer racing, but he still has an obvious issue to deal with that isn’t going away. He peaks an eye open and glances first at the tenting of the sheets, and then to Steve, who still has his forehead pressed against Tony’s temple.

 

He shifts onto his side so the issue at hand (ha, he wishes) is less noticeable and just stares. He can’t believe this; Steve is in his bed. His eyes are closed, and he has this small smile on his face that just makes Tony want to…

 

“Okay, yep, I need to shower.” Tony announces.

 

Steve’s eyes shoot open, and he looks a little startled. “Oh, do you… do you want me to leave?”

 

No Tony does fucking not.

 

“No I fucking do not! I’m just going to grab a quick shower and… unwind a bit, and then come back to bed and snuggle you into my $50,000 mattress, deal?”

 

Steve blushes, not missing what kind of “unwinding” Tony probably needs to do alone in the shower, but nods because he really doesn’t want to leave Tony, or this bed… which Tony must be joking about the price of, right?

 

“Good, great, okay well enjoy having all this space to yourself, feel free to, you know, make yourself at home.”

 

Steve grins and looks away as Tony slides over to the end of the bed and conspicuously keeps his back to the bed as much as possible as he makes his way to the bathroom.

 

Tony shuts the door to the bathroom with a quiet click, and presses his forehead to the door before telling JARVIS what settings he wants for the shower.

 

“Right away sir. May I also suggest the calming jets? You seem rather tense after-”

 

“Ab-bup-bup!” Tony interrupts whatever JARVIS is about to say. He can’t handle hearing his AI’s opinion on mutual unfulfilled erections. “Mute, JARVIS… also, yes to the jets.”

 

He steps into the huge stall that’s already steaming up, turning his back to the water and letting the warm pulsing liquid do the rest of the work his breathing exercises started. He’s calm for all of ten seconds before he remembers that Steve is just outside the door. In his bed. And he just turned him down for what would have likely been the shortest frottage experience of his life (which is saying something given the amount of time Tony spent rutting in boarding school).

 

Tony’s hand travels down naturally, starting a familiar rhythm before he stops himself. He can’t actually have Steve at the moment, but he might as well imagine what it would be like… Steve would knock on the bathroom door, asking if Tony had an extra toothbrush. He’d come in, maybe thinking the shower had curtains, that he could just slip in and slip out. But the shower is glass, and he’d get a full view of Tony, touching himself, bracing one hand against the glass as the other stroked.

 

He’d be embarrassed, but wouldn’t leave. He’d watch Tony for a whole minute, frozen, not sure what to do. Tony wouldn’t break the rules. He wouldn’t ask Steve to join him, he’d just look at him through the glass, taking in Steve’s beautiful fucking form, and parted, shocked lips until he couldn’t help but gasp “Steve.”

 

Tony speeds up, imagining Steve watching him, knowing that Steve’s the reason he’s so fucking hard he could die. Even in his fantasy he doesn’t want to rush Steve. He wants Steve to come to him. Steve would walk into the shower, not sure what he was doing until he was pressed up behind Tony, water slowly soaking into his t-shirt and boxers. He’d rest his hands on Tony’s hips as Tony continued to work himself. Slowly, carefully fitting their bodies together.

 

“I want to touch you.” Steve would say, finally fully pressed against Tony’s back from shoulder to knee. It would almost be a question.

 

Tony groans.

 

“I’m going to touch you” this time stronger, more direct. More like Steve right on the cusp of Captain America.

 

Tony does not let out a whimper. It’s definitely not a whimper… but whatever it is he doesn’t dwell on because imaginary Steve’s hand moves from his hip to grasp him fully, hesitant but strong. His whole body weight would be braced on the glass, pressing back against Steve. He’s so close now, and Jesus all he’s thought about is Steve’s hand wrapping around his dick.

 

Flashes of every sex act imaginable flit in and out of his brain as he starts to feel the beginnings of that final rush of heat. But that’s not what would happen yet. No, they’re taking things slow. Who would have thought that would be so fucking hot? Imaginary Steve continues to stroke him, slowly rubbing his thigh and the side of his torso with his other hand, still pressed so close. He’s pressing as close as possible now, crowding Tony toward the glass. He slides his free hand down from Tony’s side over his ass, squeezing slightly.

 

Tony’s totally gone. He’s pressing himself up against the glass, working himself frantically with one hand while the other slides back to his ass, squeezing and massaging. Steve’s hands would be bigger, oh god.

 

He’d be so… Tony slides two fingers over, to trace between his cheeks. Steve would say

“I want to touch you, here.”

 

His fingers slide down, all the way brushing over his entrance. Just slightly, just enough

 

Tony comes with a muffled shout, covering the glass. He slowly slides down to his knees so his legs don’t give out from under him. That would be just what he needs, for Steve to burst in and see him incapacitated in the shower from coming too hard.

 

He’s lost track of time; he should get out. The smooth granite isn’t especially forgiving on his knees anyway.

 

After toweling off Tony turns the knob of the bathroom door, eager to get back into bed with the real Steve.

 

“Ah, wait, uh, Tony just a second!” Steve’s voice caries through the slightly ajar door. It sounds almost panicked, and Tony’s first instinct is to rush into the bedroom… until he sees that Steve is covered up to his neck by the comforter and turning beat red.

 

Don’t laugh.

 

So what, so he’s caught Captain America jerking it in his bed, totally normal. Tony can be an adult about this. “Okay, yeah, just yell when you want me to come out!”

 

Less than a minute later Steve tells him to come in. The blanket is still all the way up to his neck, but Tony figures maybe that’s some weird, old-timey I-just-masturbated-and-now-need-to-cover-up thing that people did.

 

“So, you like the bed then?” Tony asks as he crawls in, with as straight a face as possible (he isn’t very successful).

 

“I like the bed” says Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still planning a chapter from Steve's POV about what happens while Tony is in the shower.


	3. He Really Likes the Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's POV as Tony "de-stresses" in the shower.

Tony is gone for about 10 seconds before Steve flips back the covers and palms himself, turning his head into the pillow to muffle a groan.

They had been so close, so close to… well, if he had any doubt about Tony’s self-control, he had no doubts now. Steve isn’t sure what Tony meant by “make yourself at home,” but he can’t bring himself to masturbate in Tony’s bed. Steve’s no stranger to taking care of business quickly; war isn’t exactly a take-your-time kind of environment… but Tony’s bed isn’t a barracks or a pitch tent in the field. As silly or romantic as it may seem, he doesn’t just want to get off here in Tony’s bed alone. He wants Tony to be here, he wants it to mean something…

And then he hears Tony moan in the shower.

The beating of the water can’t disguise the other noises coming out of the bathroom. They aren’t loud. Steve is pretty sure that a normal person wouldn’t even be able to hear them. The serum improved his hearing overall, but it also made it easier to distinguish noises from one another, and zero in on them if need be.

This is very helpful when attempting to isolate what a high ranking General is saying across the room at top secret meeting; not so helpful while lying in Tony’s bed trying to will away the most persistent erection of his life.

_Mmm, Steve._ Tony murmurs hoarsely; the words reverberate against the glass of the shower and make their way out of the bathroom to Steve’s ears.

Steve feels himself jerk, totally independent of any conscious movement and out of control. He gives in and focuses in on what can only be described as a whimper coming from the bathroom. Tony is in there, thinking about him… Steve knows that much should be obvious, but the mental image and the sounds that accompany it are too much.

Tony has already been in the shower for a while, so he doesn’t even bother to undress, just pushes his boxers down and grasps himself desperately. It takes less than thirty seconds before he hears a final groan from Tony in the shower and his vision whites out.

It seems like seconds later that Steve hears the shower turn off. He comes back to himself and looks down at his chest to see that he has literally come all over his undershirt. He hears Tony’s movements in the bathroom as he starts to dry off and panics; it could not look more like he’s deliberately drenched himself in his own come. He already made it clear to Tony earlier that he didn’t want to go any further, so taking the shirt off doesn’t exactly send the right message… but leaving himself a mess isn’t an option either…

The bathroom door begins to open and he yells out to Tony to wait. His perfect tactical mind can’t come up with anything other than to pull the covers up to his chin to hide his stained shirt and still-exposed lower half.

He hears Tony huff an almost-laugh and shut the door. Steve’s face heats up as he tries to figure out what Tony must think… he strips the shirt off and turns it inside- out before tucking it slightly under his side of the bed which is out of Tony’s view unless he comes around Steve’s side.

He pulls the covers back up to his chin, hiding his chest and calls out to Tony to come in.

Maybe they will just turn out the light and then… Steve sees that he’s screwed as soon as Tony approaches the bed smirking.

With a raised eyebrow Tony asks: “So, you like the bed then?”

“I like the bed” says Steve, as Tony slides in. Steve pulls Tony to him up against his front so they are chest to chest. Tony doesn’t even comment on the fact that Steve’s shirt is gone, just wraps an arm around him before telling JARVIS “lights out.”

 

* * *

 

In the morning when Tony goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth, JARVIS quietly addresses Steve with the utmost discretion in his voice:

“There is a laundry chute in the corner that Sir uses regularly which goes directly into an automated washer, and extra shirts in the bottom drawer to your right Captain.”

Steve blushes and makes a mental note to ask Tony exactly what JARVIS watches and what he doesn’t.

The shirt he borrows is way too tight, but Tony doesn't seem to mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Story about the cat in italics taken directly from Chapter 153. As usual so much credit needs to be given to the authors of 1796 Broadway; thanks for the inspiration!


End file.
